


Life stories are a bitch

by LaughingMcNugget



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: I really should stick to smut, Other, blooming friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 21:10:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6536431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingMcNugget/pseuds/LaughingMcNugget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Spencer is too cocky for her Paladin and Sponsor to get too close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life stories are a bitch

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. This has been in the works for a while and I'm done looking at it.

If Danse had a rope, he would be at the end of it.

  
“Knight, you are aware that I have no qualms with you running missions for the Minutemen. In fact I find the notion honorable-“ Danse paused for a moment watching the woman scrabble in the Oberland Station soil as she tended to rows of bright red tatos “-But this is ridiculous.”

  
The woman, the Knight, all but glared at him, golden brown eyes meeting dark chocolate in a battle of stubbornness. Danse, in spite of his usual resolve, looked away; muttering angrily as he shifted in place. He was the Paladin here, not her. Not yet at least.

  
“I’ve asked you to call me General while we are running missions for my settlements . Even the mundane ones, and by Maxson’s orders you are to do so.” White plates, caked in dirt, smoothed over a dip with a single seed “And this ridiculous toiling? Me getting my hands dirty? This not only feeds the native people of the Commonwealth, but it helps to feed our brothers and sisters as well.”

  
She swept her prosthetic arm in an arc, and ended gesturing to a wooden box. Danse could have blanched at his oversight. A brimming crate of red and fat tatos sat beside the rusted gate, and the sword bound gear of the Brotherhood seal was painted in dark maroon strokes across the front. A perfect set of rations for upcoming weeks that the Knight had planted herself.

  
“Knight I-“

  
“ _General_. Paladin.”

  
Perhaps there was an extra inch to his rope, because she pushed him another inch forward. Eternal steel had blessed the Knight with Danse’s good favor when she saved his crew, and that was the only reason she wasn’t three counts into a hundred pushups.

  
“ _General_ , I hope you can overlook my preemptive scolding. I didn’t mean to offend you or your work of feeding the troops.”

She had a unique part in feeding the masses aboard the Prydwen, and her relationship with the farmers only made it easier for the Brotherhood to eat.  
It was her and the Minutemen’s toiling that made fewer Brotherhood soldiers die from malnourishment; a near plague that had set in upon their arrival in the Commonwealth.

Nicole stood up, and brushed her hands across the front of her shorts, careful not to let the work-heated elements of her prosthetic touch skin “The alliance between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood of Steel is shaky enough as it is, Paladin. I suggest roping in that foolhardy tongue before you or Maxson find an unruly underling at your throats.” There was a faint ticking sound while she shook open the plates and let internal mechanisms cool in the early evening air.

  
Indignant. Insubordinate. Danse, in spite of himself, felt his metaphorical rope uncoil and the bristles on his neck settle. She would have given the ever feisty Paladin Cutler a run for his money. The thought of his sandy haired partner throwing around witty banter with this Knight made him smile in the slightest. Cutler would have been amazing friends with the Knight, whereas Danse was too easy to anger, too quick to press judgement. Everything Krieg had conditioned him to be. The rope coiled painfully tight in his gut, and Danse felt a headache arise from the sudden sensation.

  
She strode up to him now, all five feet three inches of her red from the sun and smudged in dirt but still pouring with a demand for respect “I am heading back to Diamond City for the weekend, then I will set off for the Prydwen and Fort Strong. You are fully welcome to stay with me, or I can set you up in the Dugout for the duration, should you choose to follow.”

  
Danse nodded sharply “I will have to see the state of the accommodations before making judgement, but I’m grateful for your hospitality. General.”

  
If Nicole noticed him positively spit the title, she paid no mind, merely waving to the pair of women and setting off. The Paladin followed closely behind, mentally noting the locations of her bases. The little comment she made earlier was enough to set the soldier on edge. For certain the Brotherhood could challenge her troops, even with artillery; though a recommendation to Elder Maxson for evacuation drills had been pushed rather high on his to-do list. She hadn’t threatened them directly, Danse realized with cold rethought, only warned him to be mindful. Her people were wastelanders, unpredictable, innumerable, perhaps enough to be an army. The Paladin shook his head briefly, there was enough of the General in the Brotherhood’s rhetorical pie to ensure she wouldn’t launch an attack, and that she was admitting poor control over her own militia by the statement. Unorganized civilians were nothing but bugs to squish. He just had to keep telling himself that.

  
“You look upset, Paladin. You aren’t still sore from the tato kerfuffle, I trust?”

  
Danse could have groaned, damn her for her smarmy version of concern. Couldn’t the woman just mind her own business for half a moment? Go save the rest of the Commonwealth and leave him be with his thoughts? It was times like this he wished he had Cutler for advice, as he often made stupid choices in social situations.

A smarter man would have smiled back and denied anything of the sort, but Danse was more honest than smart “You don’t think that your people would launch an attack on the Prydwen, do you?”

  
Nicole paused in her stride, and ended up being toppled over by the unstoppable force of Danse’s armor colliding with her back. She landed with a heavy ‘thwack’ on the dry earth, laying there for a moment with her face pressed to the dirt.

  
“I suppose I deserved that.” There was a noticeable grin to her voice as she clawed in the dirt and pushed to get her legs under her, at a moment notice the General’s voice had faded back into the lighthearted vault dweller’s “I’m not sure, Paladin. If you were to hear someone treating Elder Maxson much like an underling, referring to him as ‘Squire’ or ‘Arthur’ in spite of him requesting to be addressed otherwise, wouldn’t you anticipate a martyr to avenge his title?”

  
Abruptly, she dusted herself off, patting along the front of her shirt and sending little puffs of dirt into the air “I would, considering the man has inspired cults that worship him like the second coming of Christ.”

  
“Fair point. Though I doubt people look at you like that.” Danse immediately wished he could withdraw the statement.

  
In the back of his mind, Cutler was laughing at that misstep, and he could hear the wheezing sound clear as day, it only made him feel more guilty.

The General, however, only laughed at the sudden and guilty aversion of the Paladin’s eyes “You’d be surprised, apparently being over 200 years old makes people believe some interesting things about you. Did I ever tell you that a Minuteman once shot me point blank to attempt to prove I was immortal, Paladin?”

  
Danse gave the short woman a quick once over, skeptical about her claim “No, never. I’m surprised they would go to that length.”

  
A moment of silence passed between the two, nothing but heavy footfalls and the sounds of crows cawing in the distance. A cybernetic hand brushed through red dyed hair, a string of curses being muttered when the joints caught.

  
“You think after nearly a year I’d-“ Nicole halted her sentence with a soft ‘dammit’ while yanking her hand free “-be more inclined to not rip my hair out. But yes, they ended up blowing a hole right through my side with a musket. This was, what, half a year ago? Back when Robert’s boy was still sick? Regardless, it was a little while back. Nearly rendered me infertile with the damn blast.”

  
The pace she set was slow while she picked hair from her joints “Every faction has its fanatics.”

  
“You’re joking.”

  
With that, white metal fingers found the worn hem of her tee and lifted the left side to just under her armpit. A rough, bumpy scar the size of a fist was burned into the front, and crudely stitched scars covered the exit wound on her back.

Danse swallowed thickly “Perhaps you are immortal. I’ve seen men die from less.”

  
Nicole smoothed out the old fabric, turning to give him a questioning look “Did you just make a joke?”

  
A small flash of sandy blond appeared instead of her beet red, and blue eyes fixated on him. ‘Did you just make a joke?’ Cutler had been so very shocked when his friend managed to crawl out of his shell and crack a witty, if not rather filthy statement about molerat mounds when a particularly buxom woman passed their shared junkstand.

  
The faintest of genuine smiles broke the stoic Paladin’s lips “It might come as a surprise, but I am human under this so-called tin can.”

  
There was a moment of innocent laughter between the two, and Danse found himself enjoying being toted around by the short General. She was, only sometimes, rather charming. Not unlike Cutler.

  
“If you keep joking with me, Paladin, people might mistake us for friends.”

  
The comment wasn’t bitingly said, or forced and scathing, it sounded like fact. A lesser man would have pouted, a lesser man would have been wounded by her words. Danse did not pout, he brooded silently, and jutted his lower lip. Danse was not wounded, he just felt as though he’d been kicked. A better man would have been honest with himself perhaps.

  
“I was under a different impression, I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  
She gave him a once over, critical golden eyes fixing him on the spot “Its no secret that I despise the idea of killing sentient non-hostiles. As much as I know you aren’t a bad man behind the tin can, you and I butt heads frequently over that fact. The Brotherhood doctrine is a difficult thing for someone like me to ignore – especially from someone who bleeds it.”

  
Metal feet made contact with asphalt as the pair trailed over the bridge leading to the city “Your assessment of me is based on doctrine alone?”

  
“Your assessments of synths and ghouls are based on doctrine alone.”

  
Danse was taken slightly aback and the boldness of the Knight, but chose to indulge his curiosity rather than fan the simmering coals they tread together “I suppose that’s fair. Though I will never understand your love for… imminent risks.”

  
Nicole rounded a corner, and waved off a quick hello to an armored guard “In a world where humans attack each other for little more incentive than greed, I want to be open and accepting of the good people – human or not – because the rest of the world sure won’t be.”

  
Another guard, another wave, a casual and passing greeting to a man named Danny. Nicole slowed her pace, feeling safe under the looming walls of Diamond City.

  
“Look at them, cowering in an old baseball stadium when there are perfectly good buildings outside.” Danse was loathe to the idea of hiding away within walls, never finding the courage to fight and create a better world for future generations.

  
Nicole shook her head, beet red hair in tangles about her mid-back “Not everyone was made to be a warrior.”

  
“I recall you saying the same thing about yourself when we first met. Nearly a year ago now?” Danse found himself comparing the short woman to the memory, all the subtleties lost between then an now.

  
The arm was the biggest difference. Leftovers from a synth, a neuro system made by the Minutemen, and a final upgrade by his beloved Brotherhood. An internal single shot weapon, a deadly welcoming gift from Tegan and Ingram to sew the Knight to the fold. The once stark white plates showed the silver steel beneath the paint, scrapes glinted across the planes of her prosthetic, and a small patch of tubing had been covered in black tape when it sprung a leak. She had come quite a ways, though she challenged him every step. The man smiled shortly to himself, the Knight had become bulkier under his guidance. Muscles now tight and thick under a layer of fat that never seemed to go away. A healthy warrior, perhaps a worthy successor to hang his hat on should he fall in the line of duty before she rose in the ranks by herself. If she ever were to manage taming her silver tongue. If Rhys failed his own ascension to Paladin. If only she weren’t the General.

  
“Paladin?”

  
Nicole had turned to face him, gold eyes glinting in the red setting of the sun “You look a bit unfocused, we should get you inside and set up with something to drink right quickly. I’m starting to wonder if that tin can is more like an oven.”

  
“I’m more than fine, I assure you.”

  
She set off, briskly, fully adjusted to the wide strides power armor lent the Paladin “If I’m correct, and by the look of the cooler on my doorstep, Polly should have delivered the brahmin roasts I ordered last week sometime this afternoon.”

  
Were it not for the clanking of his armor, Danse was sure that she would have heard his stomach rumble.

  
“You will be joining me for dinner at least, won’t you, Paladin? Its been ages since you and I have stopped for more than fruit, dried meat or-“ there was a shutter that crawled up her spine “-mess hall slop. If not theres always the noodle stand, but you didnt get along with Takashi too well last time you interacted with him.” She ducked slightly, and hefted the icy blue cooler up in one hand, the other reaching for the doorknob “I’d hate to see such a capable warrior be down and out by something as preventable as hunger cramps.”

  
Danse followed her dutifully, ducking slightly to not collide with the low hanging doorway “ ‘Capable warrior’ huh? I hope you aren’t trying to butter me up for a promotion.” There was something comparable to a rumbling laugh in his chest while he spoke.

  
Maybe under different circumstances, they could be friends. Under different circumstances, the roguish Paladin Cutler would have been quite the partner for this Knight. It should have been him…

  
“Two jokes in one day?” she mercifully cut into his train of thought “I daresay you’re the one trying to butter me up.” She bit her tongue in the afterthought “Paladin, about what I said earlier…“

  
“Maybe this is a conversation better left for late-“ he paused, eyes adjusting to the low light of the cement floored warehouse connected to the main living area.

  
Power armor bays, seven of them, each with a frame and various parts secured to them. At least five other frames were stood around the edges of the room. It was, for lack of a better word- “Outstanding-“ he paused, and swallowed dryly “Absolutely outstanding! Those, those are X-01 suits! Where did you find these?!”

  
Danse had quickly forgotten his hunger pangs, now salivating at the well constructed machines standing idle in their bays. The cooler was set with an ice-crunching clink on the counter, the lid removed to reveal a stack of sliced ribeyes ready to cook. Nicole gave her superior officer a once over, noting the amorous, almost childlike glimmer in his eyes as he ghosted metal fingers over the restored armor.

  
“Only three are finished, and only two I’m comfortable using in the field. But they were worth the effort of finding them. The blue one-“ she gesticulated with a dented iron pan to a buff blue suit in the far corner “-I had to crack, without a doubt, the most advanced security code I have ever attempted in order to get to.”

  
Danse’s joyous look switched to one of disappointed resignation “You stole-“

  
“Oh, no no. It was a prewar military site. Abandoned. I doubt anyone even knew it was there.” The pan hit the metal stove with a soft clack, and a small flame hissed to life under it “Running missions for Garvey has truly given me the chance to know the Commonwealth intimately.” She grimaced, still feeling dirt caked under her fingernails “A little too intimately at times.”

  
Former resignation gone, the Paladin went back to fawning over the armor set, infatuated with the powder blue set with the telltale scrapes of white paint over the surface. Danse was faintly aware of a sizzling sound in the ambience, echoed by rhythmic clacking of a knife against the counter. But all was lost to the brilliant manufacturing that was the X-01 suit. This one was obviously her armor: covered in the little scratches from her synthetic fingertips grazing the surface, and- Danse could have laughed -child size paint handprints on the carapace.

  
“You can try it on if you would like to, Paladin. I trust you not to run off with it.” A second pan was placed on the stove, brimming with razorgrain and chopped root vegetables “Believe me when I say you wouldn’t be the first to do so. Garvey, it seems, was quite fond of prewar tech as well. And don’t even get me started on the settlement kids.”

  
Nicole clicked her tongue “Everyone wants to be a soldier, it seems. Or at least have their mark on one.” Her organic hand raised with spread fingers, mimicking the little handprints “Nobody appreciates the taskforce of farmers.”

  
She laughed at the hissing hydraulics that sounded, and the hasty pattering of Danse’s boots as he rounded the blue armor set “I think that might be the first time I’ve ever seen you eager to get out of your armor.”

  
“This is the first time I’ve seen more than a helmet or an arm in this condition. How did you locate all of these?”

  
Nicole let out a short sigh, prodding at the browning meat “That’s a long story.”

  
The Paladin twisted the release valve, noting with a click of his tongue that his Knight had left her fusion core in the chamber. Tactically unwise, but the Diamond City security seemed tight enough to not deem it a threat. Right foot, left foot, and then the familiar, safe pressure of being caged in the pit of a suit. Danse’s childlike grin was hidden under the matte blue helmet, wide eyes hidden behind sclera screens. It felt lighter, a bit less bottom-heavy than his T-60II.

He stepped, more like lurched forward, nearly knocking into his personal set of armor in the process.   
“Did you optimize these servos? They are rather touchy.”

  
Nicole didn’t look up from the pan, merely smiling at the question “Its actually a modification Nate was a trial subject for. Storm Servos, they called them. Had to be hooked up to an electric monitor in the chest to be sure the side effects of the movement speed didn’t kill the operator-“ she paused, and pointed her spatula at him “-don’t sprint, by the way, a needle will be jabbed in just below your clavicle to keep track of your vitals.”

  
At that, the Paladin made a garbled, unhappy noise from behind the helmet.

  
“Its much safer now. It was still in testing when the bombs fell. One of… one of the reasons Nate came back early was because of Storm Servos. Something in his suit sprung a leak and he just-“ she sighed deeply, and flipped the meat in the pan while she searched for words “-he was basically letting blood for two days straight. The poor fool was hopped up on so much Psycho that he didn’t even notice until he fell out of his T-50 pale as a ghost. But I’ve made improvements. And the risk of death while using Storm Servos for extended periods is only about 24% now.”

  
“Remind me to never let you modify my armor. That sounds needlessly risky.” _‘You’re too much like Cutler, Knight.’_

  
“I’m shocked you’d trust me enough in the first place! Don’t get me wrong, it is risky; but with them, I can outpace a Deathclaw at full sprint.”

  
Her spatula pointed to a different suit, a rusted and beaten X-01 with a thick gash down the carapace “I’d rather risk the servos than have that happen again.”

  
Danse had procured his rifle, Divine Fury, and balanced it in his hands; testing the grips of the armor’s fingers “I heard stories from ghoul ex-soldiers back in Rivet City. About the craftsmanship of these suits, but they did it little justice.” The sound of awe floated through the suit’s speakers, headlamps flickering on to admire the finite details “No wonder the Enclave used similar suits, and it sounds like they used similar modifications.”

  
“Enclave?”

  
A short laugh popped through the speakers “That’s a long story.”

  
The short woman stretched on her tiptoes, fingers just barely brimming the edges of the plates she sought. With a tiny jump, she grabbed the edges and hauled two plates down from the slightly too high cabinet, a triumphant little huff matching the smirk she wore “You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine?”

  
“Now who’s acting like were friends?”

  
For a moment, the woman shook her head “When every other word out of your mouth isn’t ‘brotherhood’ you’re entirely tolerable, Paladin.”

  
As an increasingly common occurrence, Danse laughed, the sound garbled through the speakers, but still warm and bright. Heavy metal footsteps echoed across the cement floor, a bit wobbly as the Paladin gauged his steps “Glad to have changed your mind. When you aren’t spitting on Brotherhood doctrine, you’re almost charming.”

  
The General turned to face him fully, a stack of potholders in one hand, plates in the other “Can I coax you out of that suit for the meal, or am I going to have to feed you forkful by forkful while you wear it?”

  
The guffaw that broke the suit’s speakers spoke of Danse’s indignation at the thought of being fed like a child “That won’t be necessary. As it is I’m a bit, ah, worried about spending much more time in this suit at the risk of being stabbed.”

  
“I understand that, poor Preston knows all too well that its… a rather large needle. I actually had Knight-Captain Cade put a valve into the insertion point so that the apparatus doesn’t have to stab through more than a malleable layer of rubber film to get into the bloodstream.” Nicole busied herself about the table opposite of the stove, arranging plates and silverware, cups and mits to put the hot pans on “As it was, the needle was irritating, and scar tissue was forming over the area.”

  
Danse had maneuvered the suit back into its bay, and was hopping out when she had finished setting, and the rumble in his stomach came back with vengeful force. He clutched at the offending organ with his hands in an effort to silence it, but only managed to look more pathetic in the process. The look his underling shot him made perfectly clear that she heard, and the look dripped pity.

  
“If you were that hungry, you could have told me. I do have things to snack on here.” She smiled, though managed to look somewhat downtrodden “After all, I was the one who dragged you halfway across the fens.”

  
“I’ve been much hungrier before.” He tried not to remember the cold nights in Rivet City worrying that he’d never find food again.

  
Honey gold eyes shifted back to the place settings, carefully placing hot pans on potholders and cans of water by each seat. With a self satisfied sigh, the woman stepped back and looked at the settings; nothing compared to her prewar meals, but appetizing still. Or at least Danse had thought so, as he managed to slip almost silently into the chair furthest from her. Nicole could have laughed at his eagerness, had she not felt so guilty for ignoring her companion’s needs. She sat across from him and motioned for him to start eating. He did so promptly, a little hastily, and the woman felt her heart drop into her gut for ignoring her partner’s needs.

  
“You do know that you can tell me if you need a break sometimes, Danse. I don’t want to run you ragged.”

  
The Paladin hummed a thoughtful note around his mouthful of roast, cocking an eyebrow at her “I-“ he coughed a bit and covered his mouth, looking almost bashful “-That might be the first time you’ve called me by my name.”

  
It was her turn to be caught with a mouthful of food, and she turned her head none too quickly to the side, covered her mouth while she tried to speak “This… Is the first time I thought I wouldn’t get yelled at if I addressed you as anything but ‘Paladin’.”

  
Her fork prodded thoughtfully at a sliced bit of sautéed carrot “Is Danse your last name or just a Brotherhood title?”

  
“First, last, and only. As with an unfortunate amount of children in the wastes; I was an orphan.”

  
Honey brown eyes narrowed on him, a look of intense guilt clouding over them “I’m sorry to bring it up. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

  
Danse cut another cube from his steak and chewed it thoughtfully, only to close his eyes with a sigh. He gulped, blowing out another huff of air and forcing a smile “You’ve been honest with me in the past. I’ll be honest with you now, but it’s a fairly long story. The first thing I remember was being eight maybe? I did much the same thing as all orphans from where I grew up; collect and sell junk at a place called Rivet City. When I was older, I met a man named Cutler. He and I got along pretty well, watched each other’s backs and kept each other out of trouble. He and I joined the Brotherhood together.”

  
“I can see you as a junk vendor.”

  
Danse looked a bit caught off guard, dark eyes flicking from her smirking lips to her narrowed eyes.

  
“Its the way you move when you’re outside of your armor. You move silently, and make these subtle distracting movements with your shoulders and eyebrows to draw the gaze up to your face and away from your hands. You were a thief when you were younger, weren’t you?” she pinned him with a look, and he felt like the steak she skewered on her fork – pierced and stuck in place.

  
“I’m not proud of it. But yes, I was. I wouldn’t expect you to understand the kind of desperation it takes to steal in order to eat.”

  
Nicole shook her head, bouncing the tip of her fork against the rim of her plate “I… actually had to do that, among other things, quite frequently.”

  
Now Danse pinned her with genuine curiosity “Is that why you’re so handy with a lock pick and terminals?”

  
“Back before the bombs fell, I was forced to be handy with a lot more than that.”

  
“Oh?”

  
A bitter chuckle shook in her chest “Security started getting tighter about five years or so leading up to the war, what with the food riots and all. So thievery from supermarkets found me in the overnight cell of good old Cambridge police station more than once. I… ended up working out my sentences with a corrupted scumbag of a cop named Cody Lyles when I was seventeen. Being that I ended up there frequently, I found myself mastering the art of the… bailout… blowjob... Put that talent to use on the street, became a resident call girl up until I was nineteen. Got a tongue ring and everything just for the job.” At that, she stuck out her tongue at him, a little silver ball shining against the dark pink.

  
“Oh. I never noticed that before.”

  
Danse busied himself with his meal now, eyes averted from the self depreciating frown she wore.

  
“What happened to Cutler?”

  
A moment of weakness hit the Paladin, and he raised a hand to cover his eyes “His patrol went missing, and in spite of all I’d done for the Brotherhood, I wasn’t cleared to stage a search party. After a week or so, I just-“

  
“-You left-“

  
“-I left, I went to find him. When I tracked him to a super mutant den, I found all of his team dead. Except him, he should have been so lucky. Those abominations were turning him with their FEV. I slaughtered them-“ Danse paused, and the hand over his eyes trailed down the thick scar dashed across the right side of his face “-All of them. I couldn’t, I had to.” He let out a frustrated noise that verged on a whine “He asked me to kill him before the FEV too full effect. But…”  
His hand rubbed up the scar again, and Danse found his eyes heavy with unshed tears “I wasn’t quick enough. Had I just left when they failed to report I might have been able to save him.” As the words stopped, Danse could see the heavy green hand and the ragged, thick fingernails belonging to his former friend raking down through the air at him.

  
Danse let his elbow collide with the table, holding his face in his palm and groaning at the headache surging in his temples. Brown eyes shut tightly. Behind those eyes were the flashes of green skin, Cutler’s sky blue eyes stained that hideous yellow of a mutant’s, and the blinding red as his partner swiped a huge, meaty hand across his face.

  
‘Be my brother again!’ the monster cried with its gooey green jaw agape and a grin speaking of terrible intent across his peeling skin.

  
The beast had him by his foot, and was dragging him to the submersion tank, he could smell the putrid liquid and feel the radiating heat from the pool. Danse could feel the scar sting, could nearly feel it well up with blood and the burning tear of nail on bone. The same pain that drove Righteous Authority from her mournful hold at his hip right to the apex of Cutler’s throat. Then the spray, the spray that covered Danse’s good eye with red. Red, red it was all red. Righteous’ blazing bolt struck forth bright and burning red. The slice just shy of blinding him oozed red into his vision. Cutler’s mind rended from his skull in a burst of red. It was all red. The green hand suddenly brushed through his hair, small and warm with the steady pound of his blood in his ears. A rapid pace. And something smelled like soil and the breeze over Oberland Station.

  
“Danse?”

  
It wasn’t cutler. The odor of the FEV pool was a memory drifting away, replaced with the smell food and the old metal that made up Home Plate. The Paladin opened his eyes to see his Knight leaning over the table and brushing back his hair in an attempt to get his attention, to calm his nerves as well.   
“I was too late to help him.” It was quiet, too quiet for the usually commanding Paladin.

  
At that, the hand drifted to his jaw and lifted his face to look her in the eyes. She parted her mouth to speak, only to clamp it shut around words far too familiar for him.

  
He pulled back, sitting up right and lowering her hand to the table with his own “I’m fine. I promise.”

  
With that, Danse popped the tab on his can of water, and took a rough swallow of it. Across from him, Nicole returned to her food, warily eyeing her superior as she chewed a mouthful of razorgrain.

  
“Life stories are a bitch, huh.”

  
Nicole half heartedly raised her can of water in a mock gesture of agreement “Damn skippy.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> *frustrated nugget noises*


End file.
